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drinkin' I'd just hold you back Go on and sign the contracts hon and I'll read about you In some old newspaper blowin' cross some lonesome hobo camp Me
drinkin' I'd just hold you back Go on and sign the contracts hon and I'll read about you In some old newspaper blowin' cross some lonesome hobo camp Me
Out on the freight line there's an old hobo camp Where a drunk man lay sleepin' in a ragged old tram And the lines on his face mark a life
girl and a Tennessee way of life And I'm gonna ask my Tennessee girl to be my Tennessee wife Tonight I slept in a hobo camp workin' out like dog by day
In dingy bars and cold boxcars hobo jungle camps I joined the men who drift from town to town The surgin' flood of restless blood flowed inside my
used to know I told him I'd be back Got a cowboy friend out in Nelaband who shared with me his shack When you've lived like a tramp in a hobo camp it
gonna drive until I'm lost to time Gonna disappear into the prairie to dance a nomad pantomime Gonna warm my body near the fire of a hobo camp outside
Old hobo's sitting out around the camp fires at night Fall and some more coffee in an old tin can trying to keep warm Listen to them But it is also
past the stars I'm gonna' be the first hobo on Mars Drifter, vagabond, vagrant, tramp All welcome in my galactic camp A noble pursuit though history
the Bush Camps of New Brunswick hired Wilf for a better pay|And Wilf began to yodeleyaee in the back woods of Amdee||(yodeling)||From the Maritimes to Boston
now I'm dropping songs I get on these pills and, ooh, I get in my zone I was raised round hobos 44s getting chased by the popos Man I remember
vibrant and deep when you're stealing my sleep Like a thief in an upscale hotel You're certain and damp and you're setting up camp Until you're saved by
VS1 I've travelled railways, moving along Thousand city limit signs, thousand hobo songs Never thought much about what I missed or had gone Jumped
TAJ It was a pale old 60s car Hadn’t seen a lot of care But it was good enough To get us out of there We left behind the camp The clear cut scars
Talking shit still Uno dos tres like a cholo And you checked the bill You’re a hobo And you bout to kill For a hoe tho Number one like Ronaldo Notta apart
a spell, Paul called to Roaring Jim, "Hey, check out the lumber camp on your southpaw bank! I could have sworn we were lonesome in Michigan, Jim: You ever
these gimmicks and the acts that you glorify Sick of slicing niggas up told them put the sword aside Konkrete camp stand tall bitch we fortified Don't you
you cant breath without me Remove your cornea, what do you see without me It's probably not much like a hobo diet I'm going to the top, call me
they drove me from my camp Ran me off just like a hobo tramp I hymned and hawed threw sticks and stones They wandered in my tent where I rest my bones
as fuck without soap Keep my poetry like get out ho (get out hoe) Bustin' like a forty-four Mr. motherfuckin' no-no from that hobo Junction is
Niggas is phony like hobos without bologna want to catch me alone so you can whip your straps on But fuck y'all, till the day I murdered em' all Stack
phony like hobos without bologna wanna catch me alone so you can whip your straps on But fuck yall, till the day I murdered em' all Stack em tall like you
so now that gotta be the way I started in the streets like a hobo, now I'm mobile I organize my business, but I still duck the robo I make mo' money,
d’Beesonville que'que part à Shawinigan County A’ pogné les hobo blues à 15 ans, sacré son camp en après-midi Des fois que je pense que je comprends c’que son
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